


Occupied

by thecarlysutra



Category: Top Gun (1986)
Genre: 1990s, Airplane Sex, Bathroom Sex, Dry Humping, Flying, Flying Sex, Future Fic, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mile High Club, Mirror Sex, Non-Penetrative Sex, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 20:29:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20233906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlysutra/pseuds/thecarlysutra
Summary: “Come on, Iceman," Maverick said.  "Haven’t you ever wanted to join the mile high club?”“You think I’ve never had sex in an airplane?  I’m apilot.”“You’re the world’s most uptight pilot, and if you’ve ever so much as brushed your hard on by accident while in the cockpit, I’ll give you every nickel in my bank account right now.”For Tash, for cheering up purposes.





	Occupied

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pink_and_Velvet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/gifts).

  
Ice’s sister was in Denver, and he wanted Maverick to meet her. It was too long to drive comfortably, but it was less than two hours by commercial airliner, so they knuckled under and took the flight. They sat together, Ice by the window and Maverick on the aisle, and listened to the safety briefing, sighed through takeoff, hands gripping the armrests. They were terrible fliers for the same reason doctors made the worst patients. 

“We could drink,” Maverick suggested about half an hour into the flight. “They have those tiny bottles of booze.”

Ice frowned. “It’s nine a.m.”

Maverick shrugged. “Just a suggestion.”

Ten minutes later, Ice excused himself to use the restroom, and Maverick had another idea.

“What the fuck?” Ice asked as Maverick entered the bathroom without knocking, shutting the door behind himself. “I locked the door.”

“They don’t lock,” Maverick said.

“What?”

“Airplane bathroom doors don’t lock,” he said again. “I read it in the inflight magazine.”

Ice cursed. He zipped up, flushed, and turned to wash his hands in the small sink, bumping into Maverick immediately. 

The bathroom was smaller than the smallest shower stall Maverick had ever been in, about three feet deep and two feet across. They were very, very close, but then, Maverick liked being close to Ice.

“What are you doing in here?” Ice asked. Maverick waited for him to dry his hands, and then, as Ice turned to face him, Maverick grabbed him by the hips and pressed him back against the sink, kissing him deep.

“Oh,” Ice said, “no.”

Maverick grinned. “Come on, Ice_man_. Haven’t you ever wanted to join the mile high club?”

“You think I’ve never had sex in an airplane? I’m a _pilot_.”

“You’re the world’s most uptight pilot, and if you’ve ever so much as brushed your hard on by accident while in the cockpit, I’ll give you every nickel in my bank account right now.”

Ice frowned. Maverick had him, and they both knew it. Maverick just grinned wider, and kissed him again. He relaxed into it a little this time, parting his lips for Maverick’s tongue, letting the sink take some of his weight.

“I don’t know,” he murmured.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Maverick asked, biting down on his neck.

Ice groaned. “Someone could walk in on us.”

“And what? We’re on vacation; we’re wearing civvies: There’s not going to be a court martial, it’ll just be a little embarrassing.”

Ice was a moment in answering, so Maverick grabbed his cock through his jeans, and that settled it. Ice thrust up into his palm, pushing Maverick so hard that his back hit the other wall, a little gasp flying out of his mouth.

“Pushy,” Maverick growled.

“Tease,” Ice breathed, and kissed him, putting an arm up to box Maverick in properly. 

He didn’t mind. Maybe he should have, but a part of him really liked that Ice was bigger than he was, that he could manhandle him like this. Maverick kissed him back, one hand in his hair and the other opening the front of his jeans. Ice bucked up eagerly, thrusting his erection into Maverick’s hand, and Maverick drew back, waiting until Ice let out a frustrated whine.

“You goddamn _tease_,” he panted.

“Patience is a virtue,” Maverick said with maddening calm, a phrase Ice used on him at least monthly, and Ice flushed, fast and dark. He was opening his mouth to say something, or stutter it, more likely, but then Maverick started stroking him with a firm grip, and Ice just let out a moan instead. He pushed against Maverick, his whole body pressing him against the plastic wall, and Ice’s mouth fell to the sensitive skin of Maverick’s throat, one hand in his hair and the other on his ass, and his hips thrust in time with Maverick’s petting. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” Maverick whispered against his ear. “I wish you could see yourself.”

Then something struck him. He stopped stroking him, and Ice made a noise of protest, but Maverick was firm, spinning him around and pushing him against the sink, so Ice was face to face with his own reflection. He stayed there for a moment without moving, locking eyes with himself, the pupils blown so his pale eyes looked dark, his cheeks flushed, his hair a mess and his chest heaving.

“Shit,” Ice said, and Maverick chuckled. He came up behind him, pushing his jeans and his boxers to the floor, around his ankles. Maverick pushed Ice over the sink, which wasn’t far to go, but it was enough of an angle that his ass was presented waist-high, the cleft deep because of the angle, and Maverick unzipped his own pants and brought out his cock, thrust against the cleft of Ice’s ass as he reached around to put his hands on Ice again, get him off. 

It only took Ice a minute and he was coming, jerking beneath Maverick and crying out softly. Maverick watched Ice’s face in the mirror, the way his plush mouth trembled, the blush high up on his cheeks, and he held onto his hips and thrust hard against him, and in a second he was coming, too, pumping against Ice’s back.

Ice splashed some water on his face, groaning as he exhaled, and Maverick grabbed some paper towels and started cleaning them both up. They straightened their clothes and their hair as best they could, and before they left the bathroom, Ice fisted Maverick’s shirtfront, dragged him in close, and kissed him hard.

“Congratulations, Commander Mitchell,” he purred, “on your induction into the Mile High Club.”

Maverick grinned. He let Ice out ahead of him, just so he could give his ass a little slap before he crossed the threshold and got out in front of people again, and damned if Ice was in enough of a good mood that he didn’t even glare about it. They went back to their seats, and the rest of the flight passed like a dream.  



End file.
